


You Couldn’t Ignore Me If You Tried

by Oceans_Away



Series: Loretober Weekly Prompts 2020 [3]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic), The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Crossover, Detention, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Learning to trust, LoreTober (Lore Olympus), Nostalgia, Opening Up, Starcrossed Lovers, Teenage Rebellion, Threats of Violence, Young Gods, finding common ground, movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceans_Away/pseuds/Oceans_Away
Summary: A retelling of John and Claire’s story in The Breakfast Club (written and directed by John Hughes, 1985), starring Ares and Aphrodite from Lore Olympus. I realise I saw this movie way too young and Judd Nelson gave me a TYPE.The fic takes place across theclosing sceneof The Breakfast Club, with Ares and Aphrodite reflecting back on the events of the movie most relevant to their subplot. It includes a quote from Changes by David Bowie, which opens the movie, and multiple quotes from We Are Not Alone by Karla Devito, that the characters dance to inone scene.Loretober 2020, Week 3: Movie Crossover.[CW: References to domestic violence/abusive parent, teacher threatening a student, money stress, and mild drug use.]Song:Don’t You Forget About Me, Simple Minds
Relationships: Aphrodite/Ares (Lore Olympus), John Bender/Claire Standish
Series: Loretober Weekly Prompts 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954678
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	You Couldn’t Ignore Me If You Tried

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really personal project. Both John/Claire and Ares/Aphrodite mean so much to me. They're couples that I see a lot of parallels between and they both convey similar struggles and ideas that I find really resonant and engaging. Honestly, I could write essays about them, they would be super tinfoil and incomprehensible, but they’d make me happy. But to spare myself that amount of work, I’ve tried a fic instead, in which Ares and Aphrodite play the star-crossed teens in detention. I’ve tried to blend their voices and use this fic to explore these four characters and two properties, getting down in words some of the things they say to me and mean to me. I hope something in here speaks to you too.

Grey. The school is grey and now they’re stepping into a grey evening. The weak early spring sun falls drearily onto the concrete steps up to the square, utilitarian building and the empty parking lot. 

It has been anything other than a grey day.

_ Things are clear in black and white, _

_ living colour tends to dull our sight. _

Everything is a different colour now, for these five unlikely friends. Today they looked past disguises. They told truths. They were brave. They threw off what that dry, ugly monolith put on them every day. 

Funny how Saturday detention ended up being the thing that set them free.

The Brain walks out in front. It’s the first time she’s taken the lead. It suits her. Persephone leaves her jacket open, letting the cool air touch her, coming back to life out of the black hole of her failing grade. She doesn’t need to impress her mother now. She needs to impress herself. She gets into the waiting car without looking at Demeter. When she glances at her, it’s without apology.

The Athlete and the Basket Case look afraid of each other, as they pause at the bottom of the steps and slip into each other’s arms. Athena wraps her blue hoodie around Hecate’s shoulders. Hecate grips the shoulder of Athena’s wrestling team jacket, looking hard as flint into her eyes. Athena summons her courage. She bunches the back of Hecate’s bob into her hands and pulls her into a kiss. It’s hesitant, but it’s pressing, there’s a ferocity to it. Hecate pushes into it, and is still bouncing on her toes when she breaks, casting the shyness from her body. Athena clings to the hoodie around Hecate’s shoulders for as long as she can, as Hecate steps away, walking backwards. She keeps her eyes on Athena, as she lowers herself into the back seat of her parents’ car. Athena’s father pulls up in his SUV. Athena ignores him, as they drive away. 

The Princess smiles at the school janitor, as she wanders down the hallway to the front door, behind her classmates. Poseidon’s returning look is easy and knowing. He leans on the handle of his broom. Aphrodite smirks at the gleam in his eye. She looks down to hide how wide her smile is pulling. She can feel  _ him  _ walking behind her, his heavy, brash step thudding in her heartbeat.

The Criminal swaggers after Aphrodite with a spring in his step. Ares grins at Poseidon and says goodbye, lighting up at the janitor’s congratulatory look. The old guy can tell. She might be walking in front, might not be looking back. But Poseidon can tell and it buoys Ares’ body. Something is happening between him and this beautiful girl.

The pale light breaks over them, as they step into the outdoors, bringing up the rear of their classmates. They lag behind. There’s so little space for them in this world, they have to make it, they intend to make it. 

_...And these children  _

_ that you spit on _

_ as they try to change their worlds _

_ are immune to your consultations. _

_ They’re quite aware _

_ of what they’re going through… _

They’re going to go through so much. They don’t care. It feels worth it. Better go through something tough by choice, than be dragged through something easy by someone else.

Write an essay about who you think you are, Principal Zeus had said. Ares and Aphrodite glance at each other, then ahead to Persephone, her diminutive figure vanishing into the car. They think of the essay she left from all of them on Zeus’ desk.

“ _ We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed.” _

Brainwashed. Made to hate each other. Worse, made to erase each other, to block each other from view. Divide and conquer. Gods, if today hadn’t happened, they would never have met. Not properly. Not like they needed to. 

Ares and Aphrodite glance at each other again. Aphrodite hugs her wrap to her waist and sneaks a smile to Ares. The sun is the colour of narcissus flowers. It plays with the lavender flicks of her hair. Ares can’t decide whether to walk beside her. He lopes to one diagonal behind her, then the other, then jogs down the steps to catch her up. He can’t stop smiling. He lets his hair sweep over his face and ducks to brush it out of his eyes, so his hand can hide his stupid, sap expression from her.

They walk slowly to the bottom of the school steps, zig-zagging to draw out the descent. Peeking from under his hand, Ares can see the approaching concrete path. His stomach lurches. For the first time in three years, he doesn’t want to leave the school. The school was where he found her. Once he steps onto the road, they’ll be pulled apart, and it will tear him up. Shit, what if they get to the bottom, and she just walks off? 

Aphrodite hovers her foot over the path and looks up into Ares’ face playfully. She can see the gears grinding in his head. For a boy with a real phobia of anyone guessing what he’s thinking, he lets a lot show on his face. His deep, dark eyes say a thousand things, as her foot flicks from the bottom step. She tips forward and lands on the road. She sees him tense. Her stomach wriggles. She presses her lips together. She sinks her weight to one hip and shows him that she’s waiting. That she isn’t walking away. She feels his hefty, iron weight hit the ground, as he takes the final step too. Then another, right to her face. 

He looks down at her under his fringe. His expression is guarded, but she can see it flinging chaotically between fear, hope, defensiveness, joy, and teasing. He smells of weed and sawdust and warmth. She takes his hand. She holds it like a baby bird, her pulse thrumming at even this simple touch. His hands are square, with bitten fingernails and thick, leather, fingerless gloves, showing a few callouses from shop class. He feels hot from the frantic whirring of his pulse.

*

**Aphrodite**

_ “You couldn’t ignore me if you tried.” _

Ugh. He’s so cocky. He said it with this look in his eye, daring me to deny it. He’s been pushing and picking at me all day. But every time I tried to smack him down, the words died in my throat. I’d just scoff or roll my eyes or go for the classic “Can’t you just leave me alone?” I hate hearing myself like that, whining like a little girl. It was so unfair. He kept dangling his sweetness in front of me, a glance, a question, that teeny tiny smile in the corner of his mouth. And then I’d smile back and he’d make fun of me! What a dick. It was like he was punishing me for liking him. Why won’t people just let me be nice to them? Usually I back off. Like, fine, you don’t trust me? That’s not my problem, your loss. But, it didn’t matter how often I told myself today that I was just going to keep my eyes on my paper, any time I caught him looking at me, I got this bubble in my chest. I just couldn’t not encourage him. He’s fire. If it burns you, it really, really hurts, but nothing feels better than being cuddled up in its heat. I can feel that heat now, drifting from his bulky coat into my skin. I can’t let this one turn me away. I’ll like who I want, Mister. 

He makes me so prickly. 

But, it’s sort of a fun prickle. 

I spend all my time being the Princess. I have to be above it all. People count on me for that. They freak when I get all emotional, “Ouch, she must be on her period,” “Wow, claws are out today, Dite,” “Stop being such a bitch.” So I put on my makeup and I give them my sweet smiles and I look down my nose at them, like they want. And then it’s “You’re so conceited.” But Ares wants me to act out. He sticks pins in me with his eyes, he makes me itch all over with his words, blunt and crude and way too damn personal. He lights charges all over me, one after the other, like a kid with stolen fireworks, waiting for me to explode. And whenever I do, he looks… He looks almost high. His nostrils flare and his eyes go bright and his low, stern eyebrows float up. 

It’s like anger doesn’t bother him. He fights, he always fights. But it’s like it gets to him more to leave something unsaid than to argue about it. That’s so different to what I get at home with my parents and their whole monster deal. “Dite, sweetie, your dad doesn’t know what’s best, you have to trust me.” “Dite, baby, don’t listen to your mom, she just needs to get the stick out from up her butt.” “Don’t tell your Dad, Sweetie.” “Let’s keep this between us, Baby.” Gods, just get a divorce already, such a drag. Ares doesn’t move problems around, letting them smear their shit all over your life. He takes them on. It’s exciting. It’s comforting. 

He asked me about them, my parents. He even got all riled up when Hecate made that weird snort-cackle noise and Athena talked over me. Now that I think about it, he was a real dick to me all day, but he seriously went off any time someone else gave me a hard time. It reminded me of my aunt’s untrained pit bull.

It’s like, I don’t know, I think he actually wanted to listen to me.

OK, come on, I shouldn’t get too romantic. The first thing I saw him do today was light his shoe on fire. While it was on his foot. 

That was kinda sexy though.

Gods, what am I getting into?

I’m holding his hand between us. I can’t keep my eyes from wandering up his forearm. Under his layers of flannel and denim, I remember the ragged row of cigar burns. I knew he wasn’t lying when he told us about his dad. Why does everyone always assume he’s lying? He puffs himself up, he puts a mask on, sure. But everyone does that. We’re all just trying to survive, right? That’s what we learned today. We all have different armour. And he needs armour. Gods, he really needs it. I feel sick, thinking of those burns. I want to make it so Ares doesn’t need armour ever again. I want to take him away, somewhere safe. I want to be his somewhere safe. People look up to me. I don’t want that from him. I want to be his equal. We protected each other today, from Zeus, from the school. That felt good. That felt better than anything else has felt, since I was a little kid.

I pull my eyes from his forearm to his face. He’s searching me. He’s always searching me. Like when we blazed up and started emptying our stuff out on the library couches. He kept me apart from the group, rooting through my bag like a damn racoon. He made fun of every single thing, but he’d look at it for a while first. Gods, those eyes. Stare at me forever with those eyes, Ares. Stare into me. See me.

His face has the same strange, smoky, sincere look as when we hit the dead end, running from Zeus. The bunch of us rattled into that metal barrier across the hallway, after sneaking out of detention to Ares’ locker for the weed. He’d known the safe way back, but Athena had been butting heads with him all day and made us go the wrong way. Just like everyone always thinks he’s lying, why do they always think he’s wrong? I hate that I ran after Athena. But when we hit the dead end and I said “We should have listened to Ares!” the way he looked at me, it was… I couldn’t breathe… He kept looking at me that way, as he said he’d go get caught so the rest of us could get back. He’s looking at me like it now. Like he’d do anything for me. 

Like he wants to kiss me. 

More than that. Dirtier than that. Well, good. I’m not that pristine. He seems to be the only one that recognises that. He hounds after it.

_ “Being bad feels pretty good, huh?” _

Mmmph, it does. Gods, Ares… Please want to kiss me. 

My eyes go to his mouth. He’s this big, hard-looking guy. But his mouth is soft. So soft. He’s always pulling this face, surly, smirking. But it just makes him pout. His lips are kinda loose, like they’re always a little open or a little mobile. It makes them so damn distracting. 

That’s what he is.

Distracting.

My mind wanders to the moment he came crashing through the ceiling, escaping solitary through the vents, after getting caught for us. He was cool as anything with his “forgot my pencil”. Gods, I just didn’t want him to have to leave the room again. So I pulled him under my desk, as Zeus came busting in with his usual bullshit. And then I felt it, the heat from his face between my legs. His mouth, his soft, restless mouth, closing in…

Gotta admit, it was also fun stopping him by crushing his head between my knees. 

But now I keep thinking, what if I hadn’t stopped him?

Gods, Ares,  _ please  _ want to kiss me…

_ Just imagine my surprise, _

_ when I looked into your eyes. _

_ I knew right then I’d never let you go. _

Please want to see me.

*

She releases his hand and watches his face flicker. It warms her. She deftly plucks the diamond stud from her ear. She takes his hand again, cradling it palm up. His fingers curl softly, both relaxing into her touch and shyly reaching for her. She places the earring in his hand, sparkling stark against the black leather of his fingerless glove. She folds his fingers over it and closes his hand in both of hers, rough knuckles and thick muscle furled in her long fingers and sleek, pink manicure. She gives his hand a small squeeze, light, but definite, possessive. He’s the first person ever to chase after her strength, to want it more than any other part of her. So she gives it to him. She fights fire with fire.

*

**Earlier Today**

“I wanna see what Aphrodite can do.”

The five of them sat in a circle, tucked into a corner in the arching, eerily empty library. They were coming down off the weed, confessions and companionship falling out of them, like seeds being scooped out of pumpkins. They’d started telling each other their party tricks. Aphrodite tried to keep looking confident, but she felt her body go concave. For someone who was always the centre of attention, she hated being picked on to perform like a dancing monkey. 

Ares swivelled his headlamp eyes to her, lounging back against a pillar with that leonine, poised-to-pounce ease that had been driving her crazy all day. He wanted to see her trick. “I wanna see what Aphrodite can do.”

She turned hotter than a sauna. 

_ Shit! Ares, stop looking at me! I mean, don’t, but… Gods, I really don’t want you to see this, you’ll laugh. _

His voice turned soft, encouraging. “You ever seen  _ Wild Kingdom _ ? I mean, that guy’s been doing that show for thirty years.”

She held his eye. “OK, but you have to swear to Gods you won’t laugh.”

He sighed and moved his hand around himself in a lazy temple sign. He looked at her sincerely. Her stomach tied in knots, half tight with embarrassment, half wriggling with excitement. Maybe he’d like it. 

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” A giggle escaped her. She took out her lipstick, clicking off the cap. She looked down, her cheeks burning. She slipped the lipstick to poke out of her cleavage. She ducked her head and drew her lips around the pink point. 

Ares watched. Her breasts bobbed up, her full lips puckered, and her long neck stretched open, her hair bouncing at the nape, as she shook it out. Fuck, she was beautiful… His throat closed. His heart banged in his chest. Sweat broke out on his back. He grit his teeth. He absolutely could not enjoy this. Why had he asked to see it? He knew it was going to get under his skin. Did he want her under his skin? She didn’t belong there. After today, she’d never speak to him again. She was the Princess and he was nothing. Athena had said it: if he disappeared forever, no one would even notice. He shouldn’t look at her, he shouldn’t even think about her. But, fuck, how was he meant to not think about  _ this?  _

He could feel everyone else watching, everyone else who deserved her so much more than him.

Aphrodite tossed her hair, as she raised her head again. She flashed a half-shy, half-teasing smile, her eyes bright and laughing, her lips perfectly lined with dusky rose.

Ares felt sick. Fuck, he loved that. What a gross loser he was. He shouldn’t be looking at her like that, she’d never return it, she’d be disgusted if she knew how he was feeling right now. Did she just glance at him? Was she making fun of him? Did she know how hot he was? Fuck her. She couldn’t just play with him like this. Go dangle some other asshole from a string. Gods, why was he so damn overheated? It was cold in the library, why couldn’t he feel the cold?

The heat made him angry. He didn’t have a right to it. He hated himself for it. She must hate him for it too. She must know, and she must hate him. How dare she hate him? What had he ever done? Fuck her!

He started to bang his hands together, clapping slowly and deridingly.

Her eyes shot to him. She looked stricken. Her lashes fluttered. She looked down and scrunched up ashamedly, wiping the lipstick from her mouth with her fingertips. 

“That was great, Dite.” Ares heard himself speaking, his voice like knives in his throat. “My image of you is totally blown.”

“You’re a shit,” Hecate hissed, “Don’t do that to her, you swore you wouldn’t laugh.”

Aphrodite looked to the side, her eyes quivering, pricking with tears. She’d really thought he wanted to see. She’d really thought it might make him smile.

“Am I laughing?” Ares shrugged.

“You fucking prick!” Athena snapped.

Ares’ anger spiked. He glared at the Athlete. “What do you care what I think anyway?” His voice was sullen, quiet, but it seethed. “I don’t even count, right? I could disappear forever and it wouldn’t make any difference.”

Aphrodite raised her large, shining eyes to him, steadying. 

Ares felt her gaze on him. His voice rose, spitting Athena’s words of this morning bitterly back to her. “I may as well not even exist at this school! Remember?” Here it was, the thing that made him angrier than anything: no one gave a damn about him, but everyone had a fucking opinion any time he mouthed off. Either they cared, or they didn’t, they should make up their damn minds. “And you...” He rounded on Aphrodite, swallowing back a choke. “You don’t like me anyway.”

Right? So what difference did anything make? Why waste time? He’d just get bitten. And he’d bleed to death, if this girl bit him. Better bite first.

Aphrodite was angry too. All day she’d tried to reach out to this guy, to everyone, and she always got hurled back like an empty soda can. Why couldn’t he just let the two of them have something longer than a moment? Hadn’t those moments meant anything to him? Was she suddenly not supposed to feel for him? She was so sick of not being allowed to feel. She thought he wanted her to feel. She thought that’s what all his shit today was about.

Her eyes boiled. She bunched up her shoulders and spoke through her teeth. “You know, I have just as many feelings as you, and it hurts just as much when somebody steps all over them!”

“Gods, you’re so pathetic!” Ares’ pulse thunked. Feelings… For him? Oh… Oh no… Words started to tumble out of him. “Don’t you ever,  _ ever,  _ compare yourself to me, OK? You got everything and I got shit! Fucking Rapunzel, right? School would probably fucking shut down if you didn’t show up. Queenie isn’t here!” His tone turned mocking, he knew he was being an ass, he knew he was being cruel. He could hear the way his dad talked to him echoing in the back of his throat. It made him sick. How could she ever come anywhere near the shit he came from? Her kind could never understand. The flash of gemstones caught his eye. His guts knotted. “I like those earrings, Dite.”

“Shut up.” She was shaking, glaring at him with wet eyes.

“Are those real diamonds, Dite?” Of course they fucking were. Meanwhile, his shoes were tied together with the laces.

“Shut. Up.” 

He could feel her getting angry. Really angry. It burned his skin. He craved it. He raced after it. If she was angry, he could drown in that and never have to wonder about anything she might, maybe, possibly, feel for him underneath it.

He ramped up his voice. “I bet they are. Did you work for the money…”

“Shut your…”

“... for those earrings?”

“...mouth!”

“Or did your daddy  _ buy  _ those for you?”

“SHUT UP!” she screeched. It stabbed him.

“I bet he bought those for you! I bet those were a birthday gift, right?” She was so fucking above him. They all were. Lunch flashed into his mind; all their cute little packed treats in nice paper bags. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten lunch. He couldn’t bear to have to explain that to her. He charged on. “You know what I got for my birthday this year? It was a banner fucking year! I got a carton of cigarettes! The old man grabbed me and he said ‘Hey! Smoke up, Ares!’” He seized his own collar and shook it, the feeling of his father’s hands near his throat careening around his system, another thing she couldn’t understand. “OK?” He caught his breath. “So go home and cry to your daddy, don’t cry here, OK?”

Silence crashed down on them, like a boulder. 

Tears coursed from Aphrodite’s eyes. She wiped them fiercely away, looking down in humiliation. She supposed she’d got what she wished for, she was feeling and everyone could see it, he could see it. The silent sobs surged up her throat and almost made her gag. He thought she was just like her parents. She couldn’t face it. She had hoped so desperately that he saw more in her than them. She wanted to curl up in the heat of his body. She wanted to claw his eyes out.

Athena broke the horrible silence with husked, nervous words. “My Gods, are we gonna be like our parents?”

Ares’ stomach lurched. 

“Not me.” Dite calmed herself. She raised her eyes to them, twin crystal tears glistening on her proud cheekbones. She turned to Ares. Her eyes were steady, serious, pleading with him to listen to her, demanding it. “Ever.” 

It was a statement. It was a promise. She wouldn’t become the manipulative, arrogant, suburban socialite, more money than heart, looking down on him and his life. She would never see him like the grown ups round here saw him. No matter how hard he pushed her. He’d never be just the Criminal to her.

His body stilled. How could she still be reaching out? After that? Maybe… Maybe they could… Maybe he could… Should be apologise? Should he go over? Put his arm around her?  No, what? Don’t be a creep. Just… 

He nodded. He ached. And he nodded.

Conversation rolled on, spilled from them, and flowed into another stream Ares wasn’t sure he could swim in.

Would they all still be friends on Monday?

Aphrodite said no. 

She sobbed as she said it, the answer ate her up. She didn’t want to be this way, she didn’t want to be the girl in the spotlight that couldn’t choose her friends or her feelings or her life. But she was. And Monday was going to take them all away from her. Monday always took everything away from her.

Ares felt like he’d just been hit by a car. Hadn’t they just shared something? Just said they wouldn’t see each other like the grown ups wanted them to? Hadn’t he just decided to stop pushing her away? And now this? He knew it. He wasn’t good enough for her. He couldn’t be. Ever.

“You are a bitch!” he roared, leaning sharply forward, like a levelled shotgun.

Aphrodite didn’t cry this time, didn’t shrink. She faced up to him, staring down the barrel of his glare. “Why? Because I’m telling the truth? That makes me a bitch?”

“No!” Ares’ voice coursed through the library, rage devouring his hurt. “Because you know how shitty that is to do to someone, and you don’t got the balls to stand up to your friends and tell them that you’re gonna like who you wanna like.”

“OK, what about you, you hypocrite!” Aphrodite raised her voice too, echoing on the hard frosted glass and the plastic tables. “Why don’t you take Hecate to one of your heavy metal vomit parties? Or take Persephone out to the parking lot at lunch and get high, or what about Athena, for that matter, what about  _ me _ ?” 

His heart stopped. 

She saw his face flicker. It emboldened her. She wasn’t about to take all the blame if they lost each other. She watched him fiercely, lowering her voice, severe and challenging. “What would your friends say, if we were walking down the hall together? They’d laugh their asses off, and you’d probably tell them you were doing it with me, so they’d forgive you for being seen with me.”

Panic darted across Ares’ face. 

His heart pounded so hard it bruised. He jabbed a pointed finger at her and snarled through the pain of seeing her tears rise again. “Don’t you ever talk about my friends! You don’t know any of my friends! You don’t look at any of my friends! And you certainly wouldn’t condescend to speak to any of my friends! So you just stick to the things that you know, shopping, nail polish, your father’s BMW, and your poor, rich, drunk mother in the Caribbean!”

“SHUT UP!” Aphrodite howled, lashing her foot out to kick his shin. 

The impact shocked him. He bristled and coursed on. “And as far as being concerned about what’s gonna happen when you and I walk down the hallway to school, you can forget it! Because it’s never gonna happen! Just bury your head in the sand and wait for your fucking prom!”

Aphrodite heaved in a breath. His rage gouged at her insides. She’d tried, all day, she’d really tried, for nothing. He hated her for being nice. He hated her for being cruel. He hated her for holding back. He hated her for being honest. He hated her for being lucky. He hated her for being unlucky. He hated what she wore and how she acted and even the dumb lipstick trick she learned at camp. This guy was real. He came from the real world. And he hated her. She couldn’t exist in reality. Just the Princess, weak and stupid and fragile. 

“I hate you!” she sobbed.

“Yeah?” Ares let the words pierce him, let them infect his bloodstream. At last. At fucking last. It was over. The vibrant sting of hope finally soothed, dulling back to his usual, trudging dissatisfaction. “Good!”

Silence.

Persephone swore she would never turn any of them away. Hecate said she didn’t have any friends to make her. Did they want to know why she was here? She didn’t get detention. She just didn’t have anything better to do.

The five of them began to laugh.

“You’re laughing at me.” Hecate grinned.

“No!” Athena chuckled.

“You are!”

And laughter took them. 

Ares was hollow. All the possibility that Aphrodite had been pouring into his body for hours had drained away. He was a discarded shell. The worst had happened. She’d said she hated him. What a relief.

Aphrodite was exhausted. She hadn’t cried so much since she was a little girl. Her face was puffy, her muscles felt ragged. It left her in a strange calm. This boy, this force of nature, had pried her open, like a crowbar, and left her exposed and sore. But at least she was finally open. She wished he hadn’t hated what he saw. But at least, for once, she was visible.

They laughed.

And laughter took them.

Persephone found the tape deck. The song that thunked on was raw and energetic. It shook the walls, ruffled the pages of textbooks, rattled the fluorescent lights. 

_ We are not alone. _

_ Find out when your cover's blown, _

_ there'll be somebody there to break your fall. _

Aphrodite’s feet kicked about under her, her hips twisted, her hair swirled. She shook the stress from her body, the tension with which she held herself, proper and pretty. She let it all go loose, falling into a new rhythm, new ways to move her body with these new people around her, not watching her, not whistling at her, just letting her have fun, just having fun with her. She danced on top of the shelves and tables, moving vigorously, letting the soles of her shoes slide. What if she fell? She eyed Ares, gambolling about and banging his head, like a bear with a bee in its ear. Would he catch her? She’d felt like she was falling from the moment she’d stepped into Saturday detention, out of place and in trouble. He’d been in his element, a pain in the ass, sure, but he’d made it fun. He'd made it feel OK to be here, made her feel like she could be something else, something imperfect. He’d made things solid again. Even his anger, his horrible anger. It had made her look at herself, learn about herself. She was never allowed to be angry, to be hurt, to hit the ground. She fell perpetually, quiet and graceful. He’d broken her fall. 

_ We are not alone, _

_ 'cause when you cut down to the bone, _

_ we're really not so different after all. _

Ares let the thunderous guitar of the song throw his body about. He gave himself over to it. He stamped his feet, he rammed his head into the air, his hair flying about his face. He jarred his joints with manic thrusting to the beat. He furiously expelled the feelings from his system. The attraction, the interest, the hope, the shame, the disappointment, the anger. Music let him be angry without hurting anyone. He wrapped himself in it. He built a fortress of it between her and him. But, as his mind emptied, she filled the space, like spilling smoke. He glanced at her on the bookshelf, dancing too. Same song as him, same beat, same wildness. Same anger. He’d never really felt the same as someone else before. He’d never really wanted to be the same as someone else. Her anger was so beautiful. She was so strong. So fierce. Stronger than him. She said she hated him, he thought he was free of her. Alone again, like he was used to, like he could handle. But as she moved to the same beat, he couldn’t help thinking…

_ We are not alone. _

They danced.

And dancing took them.

It got towards the end of the day. 

Zeus had locked Ares in the supply closet hours ago, after he’d made a ruckus to let the others get back safely from sneaking out of the library. Ares had made his way through the vents back to the library, crashing through the ceiling in a dramatic reappearance. He told himself it was because he wouldn’t do anything Zeus told him. But, honestly, the old man had made him nervous to be on his own. He’d leaned into Ares’ face and told him he could hit him, right now, and no one would believe him. He’d said he’d love to beat him, to hurt him. Hurting kids like Ares didn’t have any consequences. Nor should it.

_ “I’m gonna kick the living shit outta you, I’m gonna knock your dick in the dirt. What are you gonna do about it? You think anybody’s gonna believe you? You think anybody is gonna take your word over mine? I’m a man of respect around here, they love me around here, I’m a swell guy. You’re a lying sack of shit, and everybody knows it. Take the first shot. I’m begging you. That’s all I need.”  _

Zeus’ face had loomed close, haggard and hard, overlaid with that of Ares' father in his mind. They both smelled of cigars. The scent was choking. 

Zeus had waited for Ares to shrink. Then he’d strode out, leaving a cold, metallic weight in Ares’ gut. Shaking had threatened, tears had threatened. Ares had scrabbled desperately for solid ground. Then he’d thought about her. The way she laughed when he asked what her weird lunch was, the way she quietly listened to him when he talked, the way she answered his prodding questions without hesitation. She seemed to trust him, to just expect goodness from him. She was soft. It was fucking confusing. But in the echo of Zeus’ threat, he’d wanted more of it. So he’d crawled through the vents like a damn cockroach. 

Now, as the clock ticked closer to the end of detention, he needed to get back to the closet before Zeus found out he was missing.

Ares dropped back into the clutter of mops and buckets and reached up to slot the ceiling tile back into place. He sank down in the dimness of the single lightbulb. He looked at his hands. 

_ “I hate you!” _

Why had he made her say that? She wasn’t like other people. She hadn’t just been waiting for him to screw up. It had seemed to genuinely surprise her every time he was rude or difficult or dumb. Half the times he’d made fun of her, she hadn’t even really acknowledged that’s what he was doing. She must have known, she wasn’t stupid. But she just shrugged and laughed and chatted. Easy. Fun. Kind. She hadn’t just assumed he was worthless. Why had he had to go and prove it to her? Couldn’t he just let himself fucking have something? Once? The dancing echoed in his bones. The way her body moved, free and rhythmic, flashed behind his eyes. Grief engulfed him.

The door clicked.

His eyes shot up. His gut clenched with the terror that Zeus might be coming to make good on his threat.

His vision filled with lavender silk. Aphrodite slipped through a narrow gap in the door and closed it quietly behind her. She folded her hands at the small of her back and leaned back against the door.

She smiled.

Ares’ heart leaped into his throat. He stood. You did that when a lady walked in, right? He felt too large for the space, he felt like he didn’t fit inside his own skin. 

“You lost?” he said.

Aphrodite didn’t answer. She kept smiling. She pushed off from the wall and stepped in close to him. He turned hotter than a revving engine. He gulped. She smelled of some super expensive perfume and a hint of the soy sauce from her fancy sushi lunch. His palms sweat and cooked in his gloves. Why was she smiling at him? A hundred hopeful answers barrelled into his brain. He couldn’t snuff them out.

She dipped her head.

She kissed his neck. Just above the collar.

It was light, delicate. But it was a kiss.

Ares’ legs went weak. He could feel the stroke of her lips over every inch of him, even though she’d barely grazed above his shirt. 

“Why’d you do that?” he asked quietly.

Her slightly bucked teeth slipped over her plump lip. “Because I knew you wouldn't.”

The sting of hope skewered him again. He flinched, shrinking instinctively. This wasn’t possible. She couldn’t want him. Not with everything he’d done. Not with everything he was. There were people in this world literally paid to take care of him, bound by blood to take care of him, and even they didn’t like him. He bit the inside of his mouth to shock himself out of that train of thought. She was here. She’d come after him. 

He’d been so unkind to her, trying to keep himself safe from everything she made him feel. Enough was enough. He couldn’t be unkind to her anymore. He couldn’t not trust her anymore. Her smile was too important. Her gaze was too relentless. He decided to try an angle that played to his persona. He knew it was pathetic not to just face her and say something true, but he was pretty sure if he did that he would lose his nerve. It was comedy or cowardice. Fuck it, he’d rather embarrass himself than let another chance go. Anything at this point. Anything to keep her.

He raised his arm to lean on a crowded shelf, curling over her a little, relaxing into her scent. “You know how you said before how your parents just use you to get back at each other? Wouldn't I be outstanding in that capacity?”

Aphrodite looked up into Ares’ face, amusement kindling at his words. She knew what he was doing, making up an excuse for her to like him, for them to be together. She suppressed rolling her eyes. She was so done with excuses. She’d finally realised what today had been for her. It had been about being allowed. She’d broken the rules, and ended up in detention, and the world hadn’t ended. She was allowed to mess up. Hecate had let her be nice to her, pairing off to play with makeup. Athena had let her talk, giving up on speaking over her. Persephone had let her inspire, telling the nervous little thing that it was OK to be a virgin, that letting the pressure of her academic life crush her wasn’t an option, watching her stand taller for it. And Ares. Ares had let Aphrodite be angry. Ares had let her scream, and cry, and lash out, and stick up for herself. No one ever argued with her. No one truly cared about her feelings enough to provoke them. Usually, if something hurt her, people just turned her into a ghost, until she cooled off and it wasn’t inconvenient to have her around anymore. But Ares met her at her worst, and warred with her. Her anger was important to him. Her anger was worth responding to. It made him feel as much as she did. She needed so badly to be with someone who wanted her to feel. 

She watched his eyes tracing her face, a soft twist to his mouth. Every time he needled her, her first instinct was to laugh. He’d been making her laugh for hours. It only upset her when he seemed genuinely put off by her. She wanted him to want her. Not to gawp at her like other guys at school, chasing her skirt and her status. She wanted him to want  _ her.  _

She raised her chin. “Were you really disgusted about that thing I did with my lipstick?”

A flame crackled in Ares' dark, captivating eyes. His lips twitched. “Truth?”

“Truth.”

He nodded. “No.” He smirked.

She grinned. His lips drew back over his teeth and his eyes danced bright. 

They leaned a little closer together. Their fingertips brushed.

*

Ares and Aphrodite stand in the school parking lot, pressed to each other’s bodies, their entwined hands between them the only thing distancing their torsos. 

*

**Ares**

The diamond stud feels tiny in my hand. It weighs nothing. It feels worthless. Unimportant. Except for the fact she gave it to me. That’s more important than anything right now. It doesn’t matter that it’s a diamond. It doesn’t matter that she wears diamonds every day and this is the first time I’ve even touched one. The point is she gave me a gift. The point is she wants me. 

How does she want me? I’ve been wracking my damn brain. I can’t believe what an idiot I was. I was a dick to her for hours, I made fun of her jewellery, her friends, her family, her fucking lunch. She just kept smiling at me. Or fighting me. Fuck, what a smile. Fuck, what fight. She’s amazing. Everyone thinks she’s just this doll, but her heart is so huge, and she’s so smart, and she’s so brave. All day, I’ve felt like a damn kitten that can smell catnip. I’ve just been climbing the walls chasing this high I get off her. I say something dumb, and she laughs, and it kicks me like a horse. I stand up to Athena for her, and she tucks herself behind me, and I feel ten feet tall. She tells me something about herself and I’m rapt. I say something hard, something I don’t like people to know, and she stays quiet, she lets me finish, she absorbs it, and I can see her brain working behind her big, deep eyes. She has such beautiful eyes. I can read everything she’s thinking in them, and also I have no fucking clue what’s going on. 

Gods, she’s…  _ fascinating _ . I want to know everything about her. And I want to tell her things. I want to let her understand. She might be the first person I’ve ever known who I think I can trust to understand. Or at least, to try. To care. To be brave enough to hear it. No one ever wants to hear it. Everyone always says I’m lying. Not her. She’s the only one that didn’t call me a liar today. She just looked at me with those eyes, took it in, and didn’t flinch. 

Maybe… Maybe I make her brave? I mean, I don’t know, she’s brave already. But I want to do something for her. I want to protect her, make her feel strong, make her feel heard. Like for like. I can’t believe I never saw her before. I can’t believe she sees me. 

_ If we dare expose our hearts, _

_ just to feel the purest parts, _

_ that's when strange sensations start to grow. _

I feel strange. I feel soft and sore. Disarmed. 

Her hands over mine feel so safe. She’s giving me this infuriating look. She knows all my acting out today was posturing. She knows I like her. She knows I’m fucking hot under the collar, just about ready to lay down and die.

What a cocky bitch.

I hope she never stops looking at me like that. Like she enjoys me. 

_ “You couldn’t ignore me if you tried.” _

I said it to irritate her. I was pulling her pigtails like a kid, because she was pretty and stuck up and I wanted her attention. What a fucking disaster. But… I might have been right. Like, maybe? Am I crazy to think that? 

I keep thinking about all the times she laughed. Gods, she has a great laugh. She lights up with it. I want to keep making her laugh. I make everyone else so frustrated and tired. People like to stamp their authority on me, because I’m big and loud and it makes them feel tough. Dad, Zeus, kids in the hallway. And when it doesn’t work they just sling insults and punches, then slump down and ignore me. Not her. We… I mean, this is gonna sound delusional, but… We fed each other today. Everything was back and forth. Even when we argued, and that sucked, that really sucked, but at least I didn’t feel like she was trying to stamp on me. I felt like she was trying to make me be better, to draw me out. Not because she was bored with me, but because she saw what I was doing, that I was just running from her. Because she scares me. Gods, she really fucking scares me. She wasn’t angry with me for being poor or delinquent or emotional. She was angry with me for being scared. I don’t want to be scared now. I want to be as brave as her. I want to make her happy. I want to make her proud. For the first time in my life, I’m fighting for something, not against it.

Her face is so close to mine. Her body is so close to mine. Her heart is so close to mine. I look down. I keep thinking about the moment I slipped my head between her legs. I wasn’t even trying to be a creep, I just saw the white sliver of her panties and I caught this smell on her and I forgot where I was. And now we’re skin to skin, even if it’s just our fingertips. I’m on fire.

I can feel her everywhere.

I’m terrified.

It’s so much better than any fear I’ve had before. When I’m scared at home, at school, at the police station, it’s cold and heavy and hopeless. This is hot and exciting. It feels like I’m flying. 

I’m gonna kiss her.

Gods, Dite, please kiss me back.

*

Aphrodite swallows and takes her hands from Ares’, leaving his fist balled around the earring she placed in his palm. She straightens up. She’s given him her token, she’s made her promise. She suddenly feels intensely nervous. She draws back an inch, shivering a little in the cool, spring mist. Ares feels her retreat, barbed wire tugging on his heart. He jerks his head forward. They freeze. He hesitates. Her eyes half close. She tips forward. Her lips part slowly. His jaw quivers. He can taste her already. It’s taking everything in him not to fall apart trembling. He grips the gem a little harder, earths himself in the joy that she gave it to him. 

He closes the final space between them.

Their lips tense at first touch, electricity shocking them. Then the current warms. They sink into a deep, slow, tender kiss. Their eyes close. Aphrodite’s hands drift to the opening of Ares’ coat and hold it softly, ready to clench if he moves away. Ares presses his mouth a little harder to hers. His furled knuckles brush the bare skin of her upper chest, just inside her lapel. The kiss permeates their bodies. It releases hours of want and fear and the horrible grief of being so sure they couldn’t be together, that they’d lost each other ten times over. It seals their promise. No more Princess, no more Criminal. Just Ares and Aphrodite, and whatever the world throws at them, and the certainty they can stand up to it. Together.

Her dad’s car hums behind them. 

Aphrodite grasps Ares’ coat, her heart sinking. She pulls away reluctantly, smiling at how his head bows miserably at the break. His brow drags needily down her cheek, mussing his fringe, as she takes a pained step back. She slips into the front seat of the car and gazes at him through the grey window. He tosses his tousled hair from his eyes and stares back at her, every scrap of his hours-long whirlwind of emotion plain on his face. 

He hates having to let her go.

She hates leaving him.

They wish that kiss could have lasted forever.

She drives away.

It’s over.

No.

It’s starting.

Ares slips Aphrodite’s earring into the empty piercing on his earlobe and carefully secures it.

All five of them are leaving school today as more than when they arrived. They have more, they have each other. They are more, they are each other.

_ “We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us… _

_ is a Brain... _

_ and an Athlete... _

_ and a Basket Case... _

_ a Princess... _

_ and a Criminal... _

_ Does that answer your question?  _

_ Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club. _

Funny how Saturday detention ended up being the thing that set them free. 

At least until Monday. Fates know about Monday. What if it all goes back to how it was? What if this was it? What if…

No, don’t think like that.

_ I came upon this thing called trust. _

_ It helps us to adjust. _

Aphrodite turns in the car seat and glimpses Ares through the rear window, hands in his coat pockets, still watching her drive away. She sucks on her lip and the smoky, moreish taste of his kiss and the tingle from his soft, stroking lips. Her heart drums in her chest. She feels a cord weaving between them. The further her dad takes her away, the closer she feels to him, the more sure she is that this is something special. Something lasting.

_ Don’t you forget about me. _

The car is the size of an beetle before Ares tears his eyes from it. His fingertips stray to the diamond stud in his ear. He twists it, letting the tug keep him tethered to her. He has so many doubts. She’s something incredible, ethereal, he kissed her like he was kissing a soap bubble, convinced she might pop and vanish, if he pushed too hard. But they did kiss. He clings to that. No matter what happens, he’ll cling to that forever.

He strides off across the football field, mist soaking the grass, the empty stands somewhere between haunting and serene. He imagines sitting in the top seats with her, just the two of them in a huge, vacant space, free of the world. That’s how she makes him feel. Free. That’s what he wants to do. Set her free. 

The doubting, self-hating voices that pollute his mind whisper that this can’t last. That she was stressed and confused, that she latched onto something unfamiliar for a game. But before they can take hold, the breeze whisks his ear and stings the piercing, then brushes his lip and enlivens the echo of her kiss. His heart swells and pounds and soars. 

Bring on Monday. This can’t be it for them. He won’t let it be. And he doesn’t think she will either. The way she kissed him, comforted him, braved him, followed him, trusting and patient and curious. 

The way she held his hand.

It’s the two of them now. For the first time in his life, he believes that.

No.

He knows it.

He’s sure. He’s sure of her. He’s sure of himself.

So much shit is coming for them. It doesn’t matter. They are stronger than anything Zeus’ brainwashed hellhole can throw at them. She makes him strong.

He clenches the fist that she’d cupped in her soft, secure hands. He feels the spectre of her touch, telling him that she knows he can protect them. That she likes him. That she wants him. That she can’t help it. And she loves that neither can he.

He thrusts his fist triumphantly into the air.

_ You couldn’t ignore me if you tried. _


End file.
